Prolouge to Nostalgia
by Kaldaka
Summary: After giving birth to her first female child, Guinhyvaar's dying wish to one of the house's chambermaids was to raise her daughter in her place.


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Prologue

"There now, little child" whispered the soft, feminine voice of Guinhyvaar to the small infant resting on her breast. Several maids scurried in an unorganized fashion about the small and stuffy upstairs room of the house belonging to the infamous wizard, Al Dante' the Red.

Cradled in the feeble arms of her mother, the newborn babe had not even the chance to adjust to the foreign surroundings of this strange new world when an older and rotund servant crossed the room, and began to examine the tiny nursling. "Aye" stated the homely maid with a soft chuckle "She is defiantly the seed of Al Dante', you can see it in her eyes."

Guinhyvaar managed a weak smile in response to the maid, Foalsora's observation, then re-positioned her child in her tired limbs with a heavy sigh. "Foalsora, would you mind taking her for a moment?" Guinhyvaar asked, half-heartedly handing the infant to the servant. With a thoughtful nod, Foalsora took the child in her own beefy pair of arms, and began to hum an old Gondorian tune.

Relieved to have the burden lifted from her tiring body, Guinhyvaar leaned back into the down pillows propping her up against the hard head-board of the bed. All seemed well. The essence of peace filled the bedchamber, where earlier the young wife of Al Dante' had given birth to the couple's first child. 

Turning to the other maids in the room, Foalsora made a waving motion with her hand toward the door "Leave now, all of you. The lady Guinhyvaar needs her rest." Obeying the older maid's command, the three other servants filed out of the room, smiling gently at the sight of the diminutive babe snuggled into Foalsora's strong hold.

Holding the infant girl in the crook of her right arm, Foalsora began to clean the improvised birthing room, still humming her melody. "When shall I send for lord Al Dante', m'lady?" the older woman inquired, folding a wrinkled bed sheet. When there was no answer, Foalsora turned to Guinhyvaar's bed. "Lady Guinhyvaar!" gasped the servant, rushing over to the mother's bedside. Guinhyvaar was doubled over, softly moaning while clutching her abdomen. Setting the baby into a blanket-filled linen basket, Foalsora wrung out a washcloth floating in a bowl of warm water, and began to dab Guinhyvaar's sweaty brow. 

"Foalsora-" Guinhyvaar whimpered, blinking the dripping perspiration out of her sage green eyes "please send for my husband." With a double nod, Foalsora gave the woman's hand a tight squeeze, and hurried off down the hallway, shouting the wizard's name. Moments later, the maid returned, continuing to sponge Quinhyvaar's forehead. "He'll be coming shortly, love" Foalsora said reassuringly. 

Furrowing her brow, Guinhyvaar's once lively breaths became shallow and labored. "Please" sighed the babe's mother, pushing Foalsora's hand and washcloth away from her face " You will take care of her, you will raise her, won't you?" Despite the woeful truth, Foalsora frowned "Don't you be talking like that, m'lady. You will feel better by evening" 

"Do not lie to me, Foalsora. you know that I am dying! I asked you a question, I-" Guinhyvaar's statement was cut short by a painful throbbing that had emitted from the woman's abdomen. 

Tears welled up in Foalsora's eyes. Memories flooded the aging mind of the old maid of when she had once assisted in the birth of Guinhyvaar twenty some years ago. Seeing her in such pain made Foalsora ache. "I shall care for your child, my lady. Do not doubt the word of Foalsora!" With a discrete smile, Guinhyvaar spoke her dying words; "I never have doubted them. Name her-" the woman paused, as if in deep thought "Julasai."

The distinct echo of heavy footfalls sounded throughout the hallways. Moments following, a tall dark man appeared in the doorway, only to be greeted by the grave expression of Foalsora. "Am I too late?" the man panted, terrified of the answer he might receive. Without a single glance to the lifeless body of Guinhyvaar, Foalsora slowly nodded, removing the sleeping Julasai from the basket. Al Dante' let out a sob, falling to his knees, and covering his face with his large, calloused hands.

Cuddling the child close to her breast, Foalsora sadly walked to Al Dante's side. "Here is your child, my lord." said the plump maid, presenting Julasai to the Istar. As if in disappointment, Al Dante' frowned, and refused his babe, rising to his feet and walking briskly out of the door.

Following Al Dante's exit was the brief chorus of the widower's three sons: Doamere, Jehovemere and Gintogue. 

"Is mother well?"

"May we see our sibling, father?"

"Is the child a boy or a girl?"

All joyous interrogations were ended abruptly by the slam of the front door.

With a slight shrug of depression, Foalsora planted a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead, and turned to the dead mother's bed. Reaching down to grasp the end of the bed sheet, Foalsora pulled the linen over Guinhyvaar's expressionless face. After this sign of respect was done, the obligated maid paced over to the window, once again beginning to hum the dosing babe a light descant.

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End file.
